


Can I call you tonight?

by starryjulia



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Codependency, DNF, Fluff and Angst, Late Night Phone Calls, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, dream has anxiety and is bad with emotions, dreamnotfound, george just wants to help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28118661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryjulia/pseuds/starryjulia
Summary: Dream has been struggling with increasing anxiety and no one else knows until it starts interfering with streams. He can't bring himself to open up about it, but George is trying his best to figure out what's going on and help as much as he can.Based on that time when George says Dream has his number because he "needs him" and has it set to go through silent mode so it wakes him up. Also vaguely inspired the song "Can I Call You Tonight?" by Dayglow, all of the chapter titles are lyrics from it! (it's one of my faves, pls listen to it)Also, slight disclaimer, I don't want anyone to think this fic is romanticizing mental illness. This fic is pretty much me projecting onto Dream. Writing is one of my biggest coping methods and that holds true for this story. Please be respectful of that and also remember that this is all fictional and we shouldn't try to analyze Real Dream's actual feelings that he doesn't share publicly. Don't assume anything about his life!My twitter is @sl33pybois if any of y'all wanna come say hi!
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound, GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 79
Kudos: 428





	1. Pacing around, watching my feet

**Author's Note:**

> General TW for anxiety and panic attacks throughout this whole story!! There may be other triggers in some chapters but I'll be sure to mention them specifically before any chapter that includes them.<3  
> Also, this is my first time really writing a proper fic so I greatly appreciate any feedback/thoughts! My chapters are probably going to be pretty short, generally under 1k, but that means I can update more often! Hope you enjoy :)

George and Sapnap’s voices were muffled from the headphones around Dream’s neck. He was only vaguely aware of what was going on in the Discord VC and on the Minecraft server open in front of him as he stared at nothing in particular, eyes glazed over. 

It always started like this. Zoning out, unable to focus his attention on anything except his thoughts. Then he would start sweating, a cold sweat that made his shirt stick uncomfortably to the small of his back. His heart rate would go up, the steady thump resounding in his ribcage and making the world pulse as blood rushed through his veins. Hot tears would prickle at his eyes and fall in droplets to the ground. If he was lucky, that was all. The panic attack would come and go, leaving him shaken and tired but generally okay- if a little out of it. And right now he couldn’t afford to be unlucky.

The stress of this escalating while on a stream managed to pull his attention back to his monitor. Tugging the headset back on, he drew a shaky breath and unmuted.

“Hey, guys?” he interrupted quietly, hoping neither of his friends would pick up on the uncertainty in his words.

“Dream? We thought you died or something!” Sapnap laughed.

“Yeah, where’d you go?” George asked a little softer, Dream thought he could hear a hint of concern. Leave it to him to immediately notice something was off.

“Oh I uh... I zoned out for a sec, sorry. Did I miss anything?” Asking questions was his preferred form of evading uncomfortable conversations.

“Nah, not really. Just George being an idiot like usual-” Sapnap said, cut off by George’s indignant rebuttal. Their constant arguing could be a blessing sometimes, giving Dream enough time to try and calm his nerves on long streams that made him anxious. 

After a moment they settled down, leaving room for Dream to jump in and talk. 

“I think I might head off, I have some stuff to do and we’ve been streaming for a while…” His weak excuses trailed off.

“Oh, sure.”

“Yeah of course.” His friends responded, a little taken aback by his sudden need to leave. 

Dream said his final goodbyes to them and to George’s stream, practically holding his breath until he heard the Discord disconnect chime. A wobbly sigh escaped his lips, almost a whimper. He hated lying to his friends, and he knew they were starting to get suspicious of his excuses for leaving streams early. It wasn’t all the time, but he had been having a harder and harder time getting through streams without a panic attack recently and there was no doubt George and Sapnap were noticing something was off.

He should have just come clean about it weeks ago, explained he was struggling and needed a break from everything, but every time he wanted to bring it up something was holding him back. He felt… ashamed of needing help. It made him feel weak. Even the thought of opening up about something as vulnerable as that with the possibility, however slim it was, that they would make fun of him made him want to curl up in a ball and never interact with the world again.

He didn’t even notice that he was crying until a sob forced its way out of his chest. He cursed at himself. What kind of idiot sat at their desk wallowing in self-pity while crying? Angrily wiping away his tears, he slammed his hand against his desk which sent Patches scurrying frightened out of the room. 

_ See, _ he thought to himself,  _ even your cat doesn’t want to deal with your emotions. _

Trudging to the bathroom, he flipped on the dingy overhead light and looked at himself in the mirror. Puffy eyes and red blotches all over his face were not a good look on him. Another sob choked in his throat. It always came in waves. As soon as he thought he was alright, something new would come up and send him back to square one of blubbering and hyperventilating.

_ It was pathetic really. _

He slid down to the cold tile floor with a thump, curling his knees up to his chest and resting his head in his hands to wait this one out. He sat there for what felt like ages in the silence, the only sounds being his crying and heavy breathing echoing off the bathroom walls and his heart hammering in his chest. A cold shower washed away the sweat and the tears, but there was nothing he could do about his thoughts except fall exhausted into bed, sleeping without so much as a single message to his friends.


	2. There's so much time for me to speak up, but I keep quiet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for nightmares! This chapter ended up being uh... a little longer than expected! I'm using it as an excuse to procrastinate my finals lol. Enjoy!

Dream stirred in his sleep, subconsciously pushing the blankets off the bed and into a messy pile on the floor. His head twisted and his arms wrapped around his chest, comforting himself in a hug. Mumbles drifted from his lips as he dreamed, his restlessness reflecting the events in his mind. 

He found himself at his desk like normal, monitors turned off in front of him and his phone in his hand. What was he doing again? He couldn’t remember why he had turned on his phone in the first place. Probably to message George, that’s what he usually did. He opened Snapchat and typed out a quick text.

_ Sup George-- _ Error.

What? Why didn’t that send? He tried again.

_ Hey-- _ Error.

Nothing was going through. Raising an eyebrow quizzically, he swiped away to message Sapnap instead. Still no luck. He tried to calm to panic creeping up the back of his neck, making him shiver. It could be his wifi… Except he had full signal. There must be an explanation. He would just go on Discord and call them, that would solve it.

Booting up his PC, he fidgeted impatiently waiting for his tabs to reopen. He quickly navigated to the little blue icon and clicked over to his ‘friends’ page, only to find… nothing. All of his friends were gone from the list. Messages were empty and he didn’t have a single notification. 

What the hell is going on? He thought to himself, not wanting to believe the only possible reason for this to be happening. His chest rose and fell quickly, breath catching his throat.

They had blocked him. He was too much of a burden, an unwanted pain they had had enough of. Hopelessness and regret flooded his body. He should have hidden his problems better. He shouldn’t have left the streams so much. He should have gotten over his stupid anxiety and stopped being so weak. Pathetic. He had driven them away. They had gotten where they wanted to be and now they didn't need him anymore, they were better off without him. 

It felt like the room was closing in around him, boxing him in. Thoughts were bouncing off the walls, doubts screaming in his mind. Abandoned, and it was his own fault. Alone. Alone. Alone-

Dream woke with a sob, lying on his side with arms clenched across his torso. Coming to his senses, he gently pried his fingers from where they dug painfully into his shoulders. He cried softly, sounds muffled by his pillow that was drenched with a gross mixture of tears and sweat. Even though it wasn’t real, his brain still felt all the pain and fear from his frequent nightmares. They always took a while to come back from. 

He began his usual routine in a daze, trudging to the kitchen to feed Patches and put away dishes that were drying by the sink. Breakfast was a bowl of cereal and a lot of coffee, necessary to even try and start getting through the day. He showered again, despite vaguely remembering doing so only last night. He scrubbed at his skin trying desperately to wash away what he was feeling. The hot water soothed the tender bruises on his shoulders where his hands had dug in, holding on for dear life. Those and the purple bags under his eyes were the only physical evidence of his mental struggles. 

_ How could something in my mind have such a big impact on me? _ He thought,  _ It's not even real. I’m just being dramatic.  _ The whispers from his dream haunted him.  _ Weak. Pathetic. _ He knew anxiety didn’t make you weak. Of course he did. He always tried to be kind and positive so those of his followers who struggled knew they weren’t alone or lesser than. But for some reason it was different when it came to himself. He hated not being in control of his own thoughts, his own body. Especially when it was disrupting his friendships and his work. His work. Shit shit  _ shit- _ He was meant to stream with George and Sapnap again today and he had completely forgotten. 

Rushing to wash the shampoo out of his hair and get out of the shower as fast as possible, he tried to quell the panic that was starting to rise. His friends would understand he had other things on his mind. It’s not like they had never been late to a stream before. He could always tell them the truth… or not, if the sudden wave of nausea that came over his body was any indication of how that idea made him feel. No. He would just shove it down and deal with it later, it would be easier to pretend like nothing was going on and get through the stream like usual. 

He grabbed his lukewarm coffee on his way out of the bathroom, almost spilling it as he sprang into his chair and pulled his headphones on. 

“Come on, come  _ on… _ ” he whispered, frustrated with how long his PC was taking to turn on. He saw his friends’ icons in VC 1 on the server, and let out a sigh of relief at the fact his nightmare was certainly just that- a dream, not reality. His friends hadn’t blocked him, they weren’t mad, everything was okay.

“DREAM! You’re late!” Sapnap yelled as soon as he connected to the call. Okay, maybe they were a little mad. He couldn’t blame them though.

“I know, sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, “I lost track of time in the shower.”

George coughed at that, choking on his own spit, which sent Sapnap into a fit of laughter.

“Don’t mention yourself showering around George,” he wheezed. “He won’t pay attention to the game if he’s thinking about that.”

“Sapnap! You can’t say that!” George screamed back, although Dream could see pink flushing over his cheeks in the little facecam box on his stream. 

Dream smiled to himself at his reaction and tried to ignore the flutter in his stomach. It was amazing how quickly his best friends could change his mood entirely; George seemed to have a magic ability to say exactly what he needed to hear and cheer him up no matter how upset he was. A blush spread hotly across his own cheeks, reminding him how thankful he was that no one could see his face. No doubt the stans would have clipped them both and freaked out over their reactions to Sapnap’s joke. 

Turning his attention back to the game, he saw George’s character whacking Sapnap with an axe as they continued to argue playfully. Everyone was joking like usual, it was all okay. 

-

The rest of the stream went smoothly, all three boys falling into their normal rhythm of jokes bordering on flirtation and comfortable silence and conversation. After almost three hours Sapnap said he had something else to do ( _ Is it a date?  _ George asked teasingly, almost starting another argument had Dream not stepped in to break it up.) and they decided to end the stream instead of going on with just Dream and George. 

Dream tuned out as George did his end of stream spiel, just adding a quick goodbye to the chat at the last moment. He felt a pang of disappointment when George’s face disappeared as the stream stopped, already missing being able to see his smile and reactions in real-time. George’s clear voice pulled him out of his momentary sadness and he quickly focused his attention on his best friend.

“Sorry, what’d you say?” Dream asked, realizing George had asked him something and he hadn’t heard.

“I asked how you were, we haven’t had a normal chat in a while,” George repeated.

Dream cringed. He felt guilty for not being around to talk as much, but it was hard when he spent a good amount of his time either zoned out or close to tears.

“I’ve been fine I guess, what about you?” He lied.

He could almost hear George roll his eyes as he let out a sigh loud enough to reach Dream’s headphones.

“Okay, no you’re not. You’ve been all weird and distant recently, what’s going on?” He said, wasting no time dancing around the point. 

Dream swallowed nervously. “I, uh-”

“And don’t even  _ think _ about giving me some bullshit answer,” George interrupted.

He couldn’t do this right now. He wasn’t ready to talk about it, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it without crying which meant there was no way in hell he was telling George the truth. He wouldn’t be able to live with the shame of breaking down on a call to his best friend. He ignored the voice in his head urging him to come clean and came up with, well, a bullshit answer.

“I’ve just been really busy with... family stuff recently? Lots of driving over to my parents’ house, it takes up a lot of time, yknow?” He was met with silence. An uncomfortable moment passed before George said anything.

“Oh. Okay.”

That’s it? Really? Dream appreciated that he wasn’t pushing it, but the fact that George didn’t even make an effort to sound like he cared hurt more than he cared to admit. He was almost annoyed with how uninterested George was. His mouth hung slightly open. He wanted to say something but had no clue how to respond to that. The silence hung heavy between them for too long before George spoke again.

“I think I’m gonna sleep now. G‘night Dream.”

“Bye George.”

The call ended without another word. Dream wanted to yell at himself for being so stupid. Why would George care about his problems, made up or not? Keeping his anxiety to himself was the right thing to do after all. Nobody wanted to deal with an unstable friend, and now Dream had evidence to support his decision to not talk about it. He had made up his mind. He would get over it eventually, he just had to make sure he didn’t completely fuck up friendships in the process. 

Closing Discord and turning his notifications to silent, he pulled up Youtube and added a lengthy list of videos to the queue. It was going to be a long day of distracting himself.


	3. Could you tell me what's real anymore? Cause I wouldn't know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentions of suicidal talk! It's only brief but don't read it if it will trigger you <3
> 
> Sorry for uploading this so late, I've been busy reading and watching streams aaaaaa,, I wrote this instead of my english final so I hope it was worth it lol. I looove writing angst so this chapter actually ended up being like twice as long as i planned, yw ;)

Dream was still sitting at his desk, curled up with a blanket tugged over his shoulders. Illuminated only by his monitor, his eyes frantically scanned back and forth across the screen.

He had come across a thread on twitter of someone saying what a terrible creator he was, nothing out of the usual really, but for some reason it got through to him tonight. Maybe he was still subconsciously upset over what had happened earlier with George, or maybe he was just a crybaby, but before he knew it he had fallen down a rabbit hole of hate and had now spent close to an hour reading all the awful shit people said about him. The collar of his shirt was warped from his constant anxious fidgeting with it and his head was starting to swim from the words in front of him. He didn’t even notice his hands were trembling until a small splash on his fingers drew his attention to them. Tears were gliding down his cheek and landing on his keyboard. 

_God, this is pathetic,_ he thought to himself as he wiped away his tears. He knew he shouldn’t let it get to him. Being popular online came with hate, he knew this perfectly well after experiencing so much of it, and yet he still couldn’t control how much it affected him. He tried so hard to be positive, to be nice and cheerful to others, but when he was alone with his thoughts and unrestricted access to the internet his fears got the best of him.

Pushing himself out of his chair, he managed shaky steps to his bed before choking out a sob and sitting on the mattress with a thump, grasping the blanket in his clenched fists. Everything was too overwhelming. The whirring of his PC, the feeling of the sheets bunched under him, the fucking Florida humidity; it was all too much to deal with on top of his shitty emotions. 

His chest was heaving but he could barely get a single breath in. Thoughts were clogging up every space in his brain, every negative thing anyone had ever said about him was circulating in his mind and he couldn’t think of anything else except for-

“George! George p-please-” he pleaded, calling out in vain for a best friend who was thousands of miles away. Full sentences were too hard to get out between sobs, but he knew he needed George right now. 

He fumbled to find his phone where it had dropped on the floor and opened up Snapchat with shaking hands. He clumsily navigated to George’s contact and tried to type out a message. It was practically unreadable with all the typos but he sent it anyway. And another, and another, until a string of illegible texts filled up the whole screen. He was still hyperventilating and his vision was blurred from crying. Loud sobs echoed through his room while he waited, staring down at the small screen and praying for a response.

He sat there for what felt like an eternity, heart pounding, until he began to lose hope and somehow made his way to the bathroom instead. The white tiles were almost painfully cold under his bare feet where he stood gripping the sink for balance. Looking at himself in the mirror, he cringed at the sight. He always found himself here, face blotchy and red, eyes swollen and sore, the fluorescent lighting doing him no favors. He tried to slow his breathing to a somewhat normal pace while a fucked up mantra looped in his mind. 

_George hates you, that’s why he isn't responding._

_You’re a failure._

_No one likes you._

_Just give up._

It was too much. He sank to the floor where he had sat a mere 12 hours ago, resting his head on his folded arms as sobs wracked through his body. Gasping for air, a wave of exhaustion went through him. He was so tired of this, of being so fragile. Everything about himself was a lie. The confident facade, being unbothered and level headed. It was all crumbling before him. He curled up tighter, hugging his knees until his sobbing subsided to pitifully silent tears and he drifted into a restless sleep. 

-

The rattling of his phone buzzing on the floor next to him was what finally roused Dream from sleep. His neck ached as he straightened up from his hunched ball, shoulders screaming in pain. He stretched slowly and groggily took in the room around him.

 _Did I really sleep here all night?_ He thought, doubting his ability to sleep in such an uncomfortable place that long. Actually, he had no clue what time it was. There were no windows in the bathroom so he had no way to gauge how long he had slept. 

As he reached over to grab his phone and check the time, it started to buzz again. The screen lit up, showing a number he didn’t recognize. A little number underneath showed him he had already missed- six calls? From a number he didn’t know? His heart jumped in his chest as he realized this wasn’t an American phone number, it was British.

 _Oh, I’ve really fucked up this time._

He took a deep breath and prepared himself for what was waiting on the other line. Pushing down all of his doubts, he tapped the green icon and closed his eyes as he brought the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Dream, what the _fuck_ is going on?!” George’s voice was hoarse.

“Wh- what are you talking about?” He stuttered, taken aback by the desperate tone from the other man. 

“What do you mean ‘what are you talking about?’! You send me a million messages in the middle of the night, clearly crying if the awful spelling is any clue, about wanting to die and about how pathetic you are _with no context_ , and you’re asking _me_ what _I’m_ talking about? What the fuck happened to you??” His words caught in his throat, voice cracking. Had he been crying?

“Shit. I’m sorry George, I shouldn’t have said anything, I didn’t mean to worry you it’s nothing please just forget about it-” Tears pricked at Dream’s eyes and he felt a burn in his throat. He drew his trembling lip between his teeth, biting down, attempting to ground himself with the painful sensation.

“Dream what are you on about?” George replied, bewildered.

“Listen, I know I fucked everything up and you have every right to be mad-”

George cut him off with an incredulous noise. “Mad at you? Dream, I’m scared for you! Something is clearly going on and you’re not telling me anything-”

“Because I thought you wouldn’t care! I’m pathetic, why would I tell you about my stupid panic attacks? It’s embarrassing and I didn’t want to bother you,” he spat. There, he said it. The whole ugly truth. Now George just had to hang up in disgust and never talk to him again, and every one of Dream’s worst fears would have come true.

A beat of silence passed between them and then a sound-- was that…? Another sob again, louder than last time and clear enough for Dream to realize that George was actually _crying_. 

“You’re so fucking dumb,” George said through tears. “Do you know how scary it is to wake up to that? My best friend sending me borderline suicidal texts and not picking up? Dream I started to think that you… that I was too late.” His voice cracked at the end, and Dream could tell he had a hand over his mouth to muffle his crying. 

He drew a ragged breath, struggling to process what his friend had admitted. Hot tears were streaming down his cheeks. He took the phone away from his ear, switching to speaker mode and setting it down on the ground with a clatter. 

“Dream?” George called out, panicking at the rustling he could hear over the phone.

He tilted his head back until it rested on the wall behind him and closed his eyes with a shaky sigh.

“I’m so sorry, George. For everything. I should have told you, I shouldn‘t have pushed you away, I shouldn’t have scared you like this.”

“Stop. Please. You don’t have anything to apologize for. All that matters is you’re safe now, and that we’re okay.”

Hearing those words made Dream break into tears again. George didn’t hate him. He had come clean about something he had been determined to bury deep down where no one could ever find it. Everything was going to be alright. 

The two boys sat in their respective places, thousands of miles apart, but somehow closer than they had ever been. They talked for hours, crying together periodically as the sun rose outside of Dream’s apartment, what felt like a world away. All that mattered now was the person on the other end of the phone.


	4. Now I'm no longer alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayo, chapter wit no angst??  
> As much as I love making you guys suffer, I do actually enjoy writing happy things too, surprisingly! This chapter is a bit shorter than I wanted but I reaaaally didn't wanna drag it out too long. Also it's like 4:30am and I don't want to miss tubbo's cooking stream so I need to get to sleep! This chapter is a bit of a post-finals celebration, which means you guys can look forward to longer/more frequent updates for the next 2 weeks woooo

“Wait, George?” Dream said, interrupting the quiet stretch of comfortable silence they had. They had been on the phone since 6am Dream’s time, almost 4 hours ago. Neither had wanted to hang up after their emotional conversation, so they agreed to just stay on the call as they went about their day.

George hummed in acknowledgment, wordlessly urging Dream to continue with his question.

“How did you get my number anyway? I’ve never given it to you, so I was wondering how…” he trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.

“Oh, Sapnap gave it to me. When you weren’t answering your messages on Snapchat or Discord and I freaked out I asked him for it because I figured he would have it,” he answered simply. “It’s a good thing he did, too. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t. Probably gotten on the first flight to Florida to find you myself.”

Dream laughed nervously. If George had asked Sapnap for his number, did that mean Sapnap knew what happened? His heart started to beat faster. Telling George about this had been bad enough, but he absolutely wasn’t ready for his other best friend to know. What would he think of him? He would probably laugh at him, or-

“Dream? Are you still there?” George’s voice sounded distant now. 

“Did you tell him? Does Sapnap know what happened?” his breathing was heavy, words strained.

“Of course not. It’s not up to me to tell him, that wouldn’t be fair. Only you can decide when and how to tell him, that is if you do it at all,” George replied softly, his voice soothing the worry in Dream’s mind. The younger man sighed with relief, although a small part of him almost wished George had told their friend so it would be over and done with.

But no, George was right. Dream had to be the one to tell him, to explain what was going on and why he had been acting the way he was. The day would come eventually when Dream could open up to him, tell him the truth, but it wasn’t yet. Too much had happened already and he needed time to be okay first. 

Well, as okay as he could be, under the current circumstances.

Dream bit his lip. “Thank you. Seriously.”

It wasn’t much, but words could never really explain how thankful he was. And they didn’t need to. The boys had a silent understanding, knowing exactly what the other meant without any of that awkward poetic bullshit. They just got each other. 

-

They spent another hour talking on and off while Dream made breakfast and George worked on coding a new script for an upcoming video. 

Their idea was to try and beat Minecraft while only being able to step on a block once the whole time, the consequence of stepping on a block twice being instant death. It sounded simple enough, but trying to actually code it was a-

“Bitch!” George exclaimed, sending Dream into a fit of laughter.

“Insulting your computer isn’t gonna help get this done,” he wheezed, narrowly avoiding choking on his coffee.

“Oh shut up Dream, like you’d be doing any better,” George retorted with playful animosity. The words sent a blush spreading across Dream’s cheeks, and he cursed the fluttering in his chest. George’s words always had such an effect on him, even though he knew they were just jokes. He resisted the urge to groan in frustration. 

“Okay, you have a point there. Do you want any help though?” he felt like he should at least offer, even if he wouldn’t be of much use.

“Actually yeah, do you wanna hop on Discord so I can share my screen?” he could hear George had set his phone down and was typing furiously.

Dream hesitated momentarily. It was stupid, but he really didn’t want to hang up. He had grown used to the scratchy quality of George’s voice through his phone speakers and was starting to like it more than the perfect clarity that came with the Discord call and microphones and headsets. The way George’s voice was so much closer, his words only for him, made everything so much more personal.  _ Was that weird? _

He shook the doubt from his head.

“Sure, give me a sec to get my stuff set up.”

“Sounds good,” George said before hanging up.

Again, it was stupid of him to feel this way, but hanging up with no goodbye left a pang in Dream’s heart.  _ You’re gonna talk to him in like two minutes, chill,  _ he scolded himself. He didn’t want to freak his friend out by being too clingy. 

He settled into his chair, carefully watching his feet where Patches weaved around his legs. Pulling up Discord, he saw George’s icon in VC 1.

“Hey again,” George greeted as soon as he heard the connecting noise chime in his headphones, signaling Dream’s arrival.

“Hey,” Dream said immediately, smile radiating across his face at the sound of his friend’s voice. “So, what did you need help with?”


	5. Why are these the things that i'm feeling?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another (mostly) happy chapter? Who tf am I anymore?? 
> 
> Btw I know the chapter title sounds grammatically wrong BUT that's the exact lyric from the song so you just gotta deal with it. I'm actually kinda starting to run out of lyrics and I still have like a million chapters planned,,, that's a problem I'll have to deal with later I guess.
> 
> enjoy your reading!

Just as the two boys were wrapping up their coding project and getting ready to hang up on the Discord call, Sapnap joined the VC. 

“Sup guys,” he said, stopping mid-sentence to yawn, “whatcha up to?”

Dream picked up on his groggy voice immediately. “Did you just wake up?”

“...yeah? What, is there something wrong with that?” he asked innocently.

Both older boys sighed with frustration. 

“Sap, it’s like, three in the afternoon for you,” George pointed out as if this was new information to him.

“I’m aware,  _ mom _ .” He loved teasing George for being so parental with him. It always set off back and forth teasing between them, which could go on for ages if Dream didn’t step in to intervene.

“Okay shut up you two, it’s been rare for all three of us to be online at the same time and I’m not gonna waste time listening to you argue. We should stream while we’re all here,” he said, trying to focus their energy on something productive instead.

“We would be able to stream a lot more if you didn’t keep disappearing on us for no reason-” Sapnap started, only to be cut off quickly by George.

“Sap, drop it. Dream’s been busy. Plus it’s not like you haven’t been slacking off recently. The code for our next video is done no thanks to you,” he said light-heartedly, although it was true.

Dream was holding his breath as he tried not to let any tears fall from his glossy eyes. Even though he knew Sapnap hadn’t meant anything by it, Dream still felt guilty for not being around as much. He wished he was brave enough to be honest about what was going on. Then at least his friend would be able to understand why he hadn’t been around to stream as much as usual. But every time he even  _ thought _ about bringing up that conversation he wanted to walk out of the nearest window, so there was no chance.

And George knew that. Without Dream ever having to tell him, he knew it and he knew exactly what to say to get Sapnap to leave it alone without so much as a hint towards Dream’s problems. His mouth turned up into a small smile, heartwarming at the realization. He was more thankful for his best friend than he would ever know.

His attention returned to the real world where his two friends were starting to set up for a stream on George’s twitch. Their plan was to play bedwars for a while and then mess around the SMP until George needed to sleep. It was simple and exactly the kind of chill stream Dream needed today. 

They talked for a little while longer before starting the stream, getting caught up with Sapnap and somehow managing to avoid the topic of what had happened the night before. Dream practically sighed with relief when the stream started because he knew Sapnap wouldn’t bring it up while they were live. He had gotten away without a single question about it, which was all for the best seeing as he probably would have started crying on the spot had his friend inquired into the situation. 

Joining the Hypixel server, he quickly teleported to the same lobby as his friends and waited for the game to start. This was going to be fun.

-

About an hour into the stream, Dream’s cat jumped up onto his lap. 

“Patches- now really isn’t a good time,” he stretched his arms around her to grab his mouse and finish killing someone who had tried to invade their base. Sapnap snickered.

“Dream, your voice goes up like three octaves when you talk to your cat.”

Dream scoffed, replying defensively, “Oh shut up, dude.” He made his little green avatar walk over to Sapnap’s and started whacking him with the iron sword in his hotbar. 

“No he’s right, you do. It’s adorable,” George chimed in softly.

Dream coughed, choking on his own spit in surprise.

“I, uh- uhm,” he stuttered, unable to form a single sentence.

“Awww, is little Dweamy embarrassed?” Sapnap cooed before breaking into outrageously loud laughter. Dream yelled at him for that, although his exaggerated anger fizzled into laughter pretty quickly too. 

“I’m gonna feed Patches really quick, she’s been bugging me for like five minutes. I’ll be right back!” Dream said quickly before muting himself and walking slowly to the kitchen.

_ George thinks I’m adorable? _

Well, he supposed George had said  _ his voice _ was adorable, but still. Hearing that had sent a warm flush across his whole face. His heart was still beating loudly in his chest. He felt so lightheaded he had to sit down, no longer trusting his weak knees to hold him up. 

There was really no reason for what George had said to make him feel like this. It was just a stupid offhand comment, it didn’t mean anything. Right? They joked like that all the time, so why should this be any different?

A thought tugged at the back of Dream’s mind. The phrase from just two minutes ago was looping endlessly like a broken record, letting Dream analyze every part of it. The lightness in George’s voice, the unique inflection and his perfect, posh accent. The warmth and familiarity. The fondness. It was different from their usual jokes. It felt… real.

Dream scolded himself. He was reading too much into it, being weird about it. He was just emotional from yesterday's events and was clinging on to anything that would make him feel better. Not to mention how affection-starved he was after isolating himself from the world and his friends so much. That’s all it was, he decided. Friendly banter, nothing more.

He finished feeding patches and made his way back to his setup, unmuting and joining in the next round. To his relief, Sapnap and George had moved on and forgotten the whole thing. 

They played another few rounds together before George started yawning, his skill level beginning to drop as he got tired. As a particularly difficult round came to an end, Dream urged his friend to go to bed.

“Seriously George, it’s like one in the morning for you. You have to sleep at some point,” he said. 

George started to argue back before stopping himself with another yawn. Dream rolled his eyes.

“Okay, you might be right,” he finally conceded and moved on to reading out any missed donos and ending the stream. The call was silent for a moment as all three boys relished in the post-stream peace.

“I’m actually gonna go to sleep now, for real,” George said. “Goodnight guys.”

“Goodnight!”

“Night, George.” The other two said before he left the call.

Dream hesitated a moment, trying to decide whether to stay or go when Sapnap made the decision for him.

“I’m gonna head off too, I gotta make some food,” he said. “Bye Dream.”

And with that, Dream was left alone. He had the rest of the evening to himself, which meant a few long hours of trying to keep himself busy and  _ not _ thinking about George’s soft words and how they had flooded his mind with thoughts that would never see the light of day. 

He didn’t do a very good job of trying.


	6. The power’s out and I can’t turn the fan on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TW for mentions of a car accident in this chapter! it’s brief though)  
> Okay, I just wanna immediately apologize for taking so long with this update. Writer’s block hit me HARD this past week, but I swear I was trying! To make up for it you get a longer chapter, this was originally gonna be split in two but I kept them together instead! Enjoy the angst mwah <3

It had been three days and Dream still couldn’t stop thinking about what George had said. 

_Adorable._

George had called him adorable. It didn’t mean anything, really, but for some reason it had completely taken over his mind. Not in a weird way, at least he didn’t think it was, it was just nice to think about something comforting for once instead of his usual miserable inner monologues. 

Friends could be affectionate, he and George and Sapnap platonically flirted all the time. Hell, he and Sapnap had cuddled for the majority of their visit together and they were the most bro-y of bros. 

…This was all starting to sound like a suspicious attempt to reassure himself that his feelings were nothing more than friendship. He was getting pretty good at that.

Honestly, his brain was probably just stuck on this because of how much George had been talking to him recently now that they had each other’s phone numbers. They called for at least a few hours a day, while they were both busy working on their own stuff or just passing time listening to each other ramble happily. It helped keep Dream preoccupied and George just appreciated the company. 

He wished it was more. No matter how long they talked for it was never enough, and he always felt empty after they hung up. The dark would seep into the cracks in his mind, and heavy guilt settled got in his stomach as he sat painfully alone in his dim room, desperately longing for George to be there with him instead of across the fucking ocean. 

He wished they could stay on call forever, grow tired together and whisper stupid things until one of them drifted off to sleep. 

He could never say that out of fear of being too clingy, too overbearing, and risk pushing his friend away, but the thought was there nonetheless. 

Even if he tried to pretend it wasn’t. 

All of this had led up to his current predicament, sitting in an empty bathtub trying not to freak out. His phone was on the kitchen counter where he left it to try and lessen the temptation to call George, his self-set challenge for one day.

Just 24 hours.

Which he learned was a long fucking time when you get used to talking to someone every day.

Thunder clapped in the distance, shaking Dream from his self-pity. The lights had been flickering on and off for the past thirty minutes, and it seemed like the power had finally decided to shut off leaving him in the dark.

To say he disliked storms would be an understatement. His fear of them were practically debilitating, unfortunate for someone living in a place known for unstable weather conditions and semi-regular hurricane threats.

They didn’t used to bother him as much, hardly more than an annoyance with the inconveniences they caused, until a few years ago. He tried his best not to think about it. Remembering what was probably the worst day of his life wasn’t at the top of his list of his “favorite activities list”, to say the least. 

All that mattered about what had happened that day is that somehow it had brought him up to this moment, sitting fully clothed in a bathtub trying not to call a short British guy to calm him down from an impending panic attack. 

The cold, hard porcelain supported him uncomfortably as he sat perfectly still, listening to his heartbeat and breathing and the rain pattering loudly on the roof overhead. 

_Fuck it, I’m calling George._

He grasped the edge of the tub to pull himself shakily upright and walk to his phone without a second thought. He moved like he was on autopilot to pick up his phone and dial his number with muscle memory. At this point it was even faster than finding his contact. 

He held his breath as it rang, three times in succession before a familiar voice picked up on the other end. 

“Dream?”

Relief washed over him. A sigh escaped his lips before he steadied his voice to talk. 

“Hi, I missed you.” The admission came out before he even thought about how much of an asshole it would make him sound like. 

“I missed you too. Why didn’t you call earlier? I thought I had done something to make you not want to talk to me,” George inquired, making Dream cringe. 

“No you didn’t do anything I just… I didn’t want to bother you.” He closed his eyes as if that would make it all go away. 

“Dream you could never-“ George started, cut off by a scared exclamation from Dream. 

A loud boom of thunder had crashed closer to his apartment than before, managing to make him jump a good foot off the ground. 

“Shit— sorry, fuck, continue,” he said. Maybe if he could play this off George wouldn’t ask about it and he wouldn’t have to explain his stupid fear. 

“Okay, what’s going on? What the fuck just happened to scare you like that?” Concern laced through his words.

Dream wanted to cry on the spot. George didn’t have to care about him like this, to listen to every emotion in his words and check whether he was alright. To talk to him slowly and walk him back from the brink of a breakdown, to whisper exactly what he needed to hear to stop his tears. He didn’t deserve any of it, and yet George did it anyways. 

Dream owed him the truth. 

“Did I ever tell you about the time when I got stuck in a hurricane?”

George was silent for a moment too long for comfort. _Fuck_. Dream shouldn’t have brought this up, why would his friend want to listen to him talk about that, why would he care about the reasoning behind his stupid fear anyways. He was always taking things too far.

“Dream? Did you change your mind?”

His eyes shot open. In all his thinking he must have missed George’s response telling him to go ahead with the story.

 _I really can’t get any more stupid,_ he thought, shaking his head at how quickly his mind had jumped to the worst conclusion. He had to work on that. 

Drawing a deep breath, he recalled how it all had started. 

“I was driving back from Miami, I had been seeing a friend for the weekend,” he began, smiling for a moment as he remembered that trip with an old high school “friend”. It was one of the only good things he remembered about that time in his life, really, and it almost made him sad to think about. He continued.

“I remember getting the emergency alert on my phone about an hour into the drive. The weather had been bad all week so it wasn’t a surprise, but it was still scary, yknow?”

George hadn’t said anything the whole time, and still only responded with a low hum in acknowledgement of the rhetorical question. Despite his silence, Dream knew he was listening. He knew this was important. 

“I still had some time, I mean we didn’t even know for sure how close the hurricane was gonna get, and I thought I could make it home in time. So I just kept driving.”

His hand was shaking where he held his phone to his ear, so he pulled it away and clicked it to speaker mode instead and turned to sit on the table, placing the phone beside him. 

“The storm kept getting worse. There were some points I could barely see the road through the rain even with the windshield wiper at full speed. Everyone was driving so slowly, trying to be as careful as possible, but I just wanted to get home. It was starting to flood from all the rain and I was going too fast, the brakes… they didn’t…” His voice cracked as he recalled his terror. 

_His tight grip on the steering wheel, knuckles white and palms sweaty. He swore he could still feel the bruise on his shoulder where the seat belt had dug in trying to hold him back as the car spun out of control. He remembered the world flashing in front him before his vision went dark. It made him feel sick._

A sob wracked through his body as he gasped for air, wrapping his arms around himself for any ounce of solace. He wished they weren’t his own.

“Dream, breathe. Everything is alright now, you’re safe. I’m here. Please just breathe. Dream?” George tried to keep his voice calm for the other boy but there was no doubt he was worried. 

“I’m sorry,” Dream said through tears.

George’s heart shattered. 

“Dream, it’s not your fault. None of it was your fault. Are you listening to me? Dream, focus on my voice. It’s all in the past, you’re going to be okay.”

His words were the only clarity in the mess of Dream’s brain. They were the only thing pulling him back from the edge of doing something he would regret.

 _I’ll never be able to thank him for everything he’s done for me._ Dream thought to himself. 

His breathing slowed, chest rising and falling evenly. George waited silently on the other end of the call for any sign of life. 

“I really hate storms.”


	7. I always try my best to listen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! just wanted to point out that if you don't wanna miss an update you can press the little "subscribe" button at the top of this fic so you get an email every time I post a chapter! That is, if you wanna know what happens... to each their own though!  
> This chapter got longer than expected and I still had a whole other part i wanted to include! But I'm saving it for the next chapter instead, so look forward to that. Enjoy !!

Dream was finally going to leave his house.

Now for most this wasn’t a very big deal; generally it’s an everyday event for those who work a normal job and have a social life that exists outside of a screen, but Dream had none of those things.

His job was playing a block game, and his closest friends lived hundreds or thousands of miles away and were accessible only through various social platforms. Pair that with consistent anxiety and you get, well, someone who doesn’t go outside very often. 

But here he was, shoes on with keys jangling from his fist, looking at the world outside his doorway. He was ready.

He pulled his car door shut and turned the key in the ignition, trying not to think of everything that could go wrong.

Unfortunately, he had little control over his mind these days.

_ You could crash, again. _

_ Your car could break down. _

_ Someone else could crash into you. _

_ You could- _

He connected his phone to the bluetooth and cranked it up to drown out his thoughts. It was a song Sapnap had shown him a couple of days back and had quickly found a place on his playlist. The upbeat melody and guitar contrasted slightly with the tone of the lyrics.

_ ‘I still have the nightmares where I would have to call you to calm down,’ _

He scoffed at how fitting it was to his current situation with George. It was nice to know that someone else out there had an experience like his, however slim the factual similarities were. He sang along as he pulled onto the highway.

_ ‘I still think about you all the time…’ _

Twenty minutes and a good handful of songs later he arrived at his destination. The tall glass windows of the library loomed over him. People streamed in and out of the big front doors. Kids hung off of the stair railings and chased each other around the sidewalk. Seeing so much life, so much happiness, made him smile. The world was so big, and he had so much left to do.

Starting off with going to find some books to bring home.

He didn’t have anything particular in mind, so he wandered to a relatively empty section of the library to begin browsing in peace. His eyes scanned the titles, vertical on the spines that he traced with a wandering finger. 

He skipped over romance titles, generic spy thrillers, novels about peoples’ miserable made up fantasies. Nothing interested him. He paced back and forth through the rows of bookshelves with no luck, sighing every time a pretty cover got his hopes up only for the description on the back to be the most boring thing he’d ever come across.

A buzz from his back pocket interrupted the frustration brewing at his futile search. George’s name flashed at the top of his screen signaling an incoming call. He wasn’t an expert in library etiquette but he knew that it was meant to be quiet, which wasn’t always a guarantee on calls with his best friend. He pressed the red icon to decline the call and sent a quick text instead.

_ busy, can it wait? _

Barely a moment passed before his phone started buzzing with another call. Apparently this was urgent. 

“What’s up,” He answered the call, already making his way to the exit.

“Hey,” George said. He sounded out of breath. “What are you doing?”

“I was just at the library but I’m heading back to my car now. Is everything good?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to bother, yeah no everything is fine. I just…” George trailed off. Dream could hear the unsteadiness in his voice. It sounded like he was going to cry.

“You don’t have to lie to me, George. What’s going on?” He asked softly as he pulled open his car door and sat down behind the steering wheel. 

George drew a sharp breath. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I was okay until… until I just wasn’t? I don’t know how to describe it. Everything just feels wrong now and I didn’t know what to do besides call you and hope you still wanted to talk to me. That you didn’t hate me.”

Dream’s original feeling of bewilderment at how George could  _ ever _ think he would hate him quickly faded as he remembered his own similar fears. These doubts had no evidence to support them, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there gnawing away at the back of his mind. And George’s too, apparently. 

“I promise you I could never hate you, no matter what happens. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I wouldn’t fuck it up even if you wanted me to. Take a deep breath, okay?” His words were probably the most truthful thing he’d ever said to someone. Panic made him into a bit of a sap, as he’d come to find. It also made his brain void of any useful advice, which was inconvenient seeing as he had a boy in crisis waiting for his guidance.

He had been on the other end of this so many times, head spinning with awful things and George the only thing grounding him to reality. It would be nice if he could remember how his friend did it so well. 

“I’m s-sorry for being a burden,” George said through tears. Dream’s heart shattered.

“You will never be a burden. Do you hear me? You deserve everything in the world. I will always be here if you need me, so don’t feel bad about asking for help. God knows I’ve called you in tears a fair amount of times these past couple weeks.” He laughed under his breath and wiped away a few stray tears that were rolling down his cheek. He heard slow breathing and waited for George to speak.

“Shit. I would never be mad at you for calling me but somehow it feels… different? When it’s me? I feel like an idiot.” He scoffed at himself. 

Dream was surprised at how familiar George’s words sounded.

“That’s… exactly how I feel. You actually put it into words.” He admitted.

“Really? I’m sorry you have to go through this so often. This shit fucking sucks, man.” George sniffled, sinuses congested from crying.

“Yeah, it sure does,” Dream chuckled. They sat in comfortable silence for a minute.

“Thank you,” George said finally, “I mean it.”

Dream smiled. “I know you do.”

-

The little timer keeping track of the length of their call ticked away under George’s name, slowly but steadily reaching up to five hours. The original reason for the call seemed distant and faded, a simple memory that neither would speak of again but would sit in Dream’s mind for days to come. 

Life was funny like that. 

Something could be a catalyst, important to the path of someone’s life without them even knowing it. Others could be essentially meaningless yet haunt someone for the rest of their life. None of it was clear, or certain, or made any sense. It just  _ was _ . 

Complicated and annoying and beautiful. Much like George.

A soft smile spread over Dream’s face as he mused, hardly taking in anything his friend was saying. It didn’t really matter he said as long as Dream could listen to his light accent and excessively loud laughter. It made him feel at home, whatever that meant.

“Do you want to come to Florida?” He blurted out. George quickly went silent at the sudden interruption. The call fell silent as he thought.

“Oh- I, uh,” he stuttered.

Dream wanted to slam his head into the nearest hard surface. It was stupid of him to spring that question on George out of nowhere. 

“I mean, no pressure or anything! I was just thinking about it and then it just… came out without thinking I guess.”  _ Shit. _

“Dream, of course I want to visit. You just put me on the spot a bit and… it’s kind of a big thing to agree to out of the blue. But of course I do. I want to meet you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.” George said. Dream could hear him smiling when he spoke.

Warmth fluttered in his stomach and he covered his reddening face with his hand. George wanted to see him. Like, get on an airplane and fly across an ocean, see him. He hadn’t really doubted that for more than a second, but hearing it out loud almost made him lightheaded from happiness.

“You know that means I’d finally know what you look like though, right?” George chimed in, the thought making Dream’s blush darken to an embarrassing shade of pink. If George could see him right now he would probably tease him relentlessly. His friend’s words shouldn’t have this much effect on him, but time and time again his teasing intonation reduced Dream to a puddle of flustered emotions he was desperately trying to ignore. 

“Yeah, you’ll probably faint from my beauty,” Dream responded, attempting to keep a joking tone and only slightly failing. His heart pounded in his chest.

“Suuuuure Dream. I’ll believe it when I see it,” George laughed cockily.

Dream raised his eyebrow. That sounded like a challenge. 

He pulled his phone away from his ear to open Snapchat, hand coming back up to cover most of his features and take a slightly blurred pic. His eyes analyzed the screen in front of him. It was barely a quarter of his face, just a green eye peeking through his fingers and a tuft of dirty blond hair, but it was more than he’d ever shown George. Or really anyone, for that matter. He tapped out a quick message to accompany it-  _ believe it yet? _ And hit send before he could regret it. He raised the phone back to his ear and waited. 

“Dream what-” George started upon receiving the notification, sentence drifting off as he opened the picture. Dream’s confidence wavered in his silence before a shriek blasted through his speaker. 

“DREAM! YOU HAVE FRECKLES?”

He burst into laughter at his friend’s outburst. 

_ Of all the things he could have said…  _ He thought to himself, rolling his eyes.

He let George screech for a while longer before light-heartedly telling him to calm down.

“To answer your question, no, I do not believe it yet. I’ll need more than a sliver of your face to decide whether you meet my standards or not.” George said smugly.

“Oh shut the fuck up, we both know I’m at least hotter than you.”

“So you think I’m hot?” George said, jokingly flirting.

Dream didn’t want to admit how it made his heart skip a beat. “Okay, no. You’re just sleep deprived now. Go to bed asshole.”

“But Dreeeeam,” George whined, “I wanna keep talking to you.”

Dream’s eyes fluttered closed, breath catching in his throat. His blush was never going away if George kept saying shit like that. 

_ It’s just a joke, nothing more. _

“Fine, why don’t we talk until you fall asleep?” Dream offered.

George hummed in consideration. “Deal. You’re so boring it’ll put me right to sleep.”

There wasn’t an ounce of malice in his voice, but Dream feigned hurt anyways.

“You’re always so  _ mean _ to me, Gogy. I might have to reconsider my offer.” Even though the nickname was stupid, it was still kinda cute.

“Noooo, don’t leave me,” George said through pouted lips. They both snickered.

“I would never,” Dream said softly.

“I know you wouldn’t,” George replied with certainty.

Dream sighed and looked up at his dark ceiling, imagining the stars beginning to show in the twilight sky outside as he sent a silent prayer into the universe.

_ Please. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's curious, the song referenced in this chapter is Maple Syrup by The Backseat Lovers! I did fr find it through Sapnap's spotify and immediately put it on my dnf playlist cause it reminded me of them lol. I def recommend it, it slaps.


	8. Don't go and leave me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TW for a small allusion to suicidal ideation! It's mostly a metaphor, but in my head dream in this fic struggles with suicidal thoughts so be careful if you think it could trigger you)   
> I struggled with this chapter so much you guys have NO clue,, I'm just glad I got it finished and now I can move on to the more fun stuff I have planned ayyyyyyy get excited! Or maybe scared? You'll have to wait and find out ;) 
> 
> Btw if you ever wanna talk to me or see me say stupid shit, you can follow me on twitter @sl33pybois!

The sky was almost dark outside of Dream’s window and his eyelids were starting to feel heavy, but he and George were still talking. 

Despite the 5 hour time difference between them, both of their sleep schedules were so thrown off from constant streaming, filming, and coding, that they ended up on a similar pattern anyways. Dream would be lying if he said it wasn’t at least a little bit intentional too. 

They were talking quietly, George’s words slightly slurred from sleepiness. 

“If I stream tomorrow will you join?” He asked. It was more of a rhetorical question, Dream could never say no to him.

“Hmmm I don’t know, maybe you’ll sleep all day and forget to do it,” he teased, “I don’t want to make a promise just to have you break it.”

“Oh shut up, that's only happened like  _ twice _ ,” George said defensively. “Plus, I could never break a promise to you. I’m too scared of what you’d do if I did to even risk it,” He giggled, the sound muffled by what Dream assumed was him turning into a pillow. 

Dream was used to how the sound of George’s laugh made his heart leap now. The way it made everything in the world look just a little brighter, made life seem that much more tolerable when George was in it. A familiar tightness settled in his chest but instead of the usual anxiety that came with it he just felt… safe. 

He glanced at the constellations twinkling in the clear sky outside his window.

“Can you see the stars?” He whispered.

George hummed and Dream heard shuffling as George moved to a window of his own. 

“Yeah,” he said breathily, “they’re beautiful. And the moon is almost full, too.”

Dream could imagine his face illuminated in the cool light, shadows falling gracefully over his cheekbones and eyes sparkling in wonder at the expanse of the galaxy. He would give anything to be sitting with him, staring up at the heavens together. He would reach over and take his hand in his. It hurt how much he wanted this, whatever  _ this _ was.

“Isn’t it weird that we see the same stars and moon? We’re thousands of miles apart but I can look up at the sky, at any time, and know there’s a chance you’re looking at it too. It makes the world feel a little smaller. And it makes you feel closer to me in a way,” Dream said, any second thoughts about being so candid forgotten in sleepiness.

“It doesn’t feel real,” George said after a moment. His voice sounded far away, his phone strewn somewhere convenient on speaker mode so he could lie down.

“What doesn’t?” Dream asked, his mind already wandering to what he could mean. His heart thudded as hope surged through him.

_ I’m reading too much into this. _

There was no reply, just quiet, steady breathing.

“George?”

He was already asleep.

-

Dim light from the moon shone through the window in streaks, falling over Dream’s hand where it lay palm up on the mattress. He imagined sliding it into George’s smaller hand, fingers interlocking and never letting go. His eyes fluttered closed at the thought. 

_ This isn’t fair. _

His best friend was sleeping peacefully on the other side of this phone call, blissfully unaware of the conflict raging in Dream’s mind. His thoughts were a rough ocean, murky waves dark and frothy as they tossed him where they pleased. He was completely at their mercy, there was no point in lying to himself anymore. He had no control over where they went. Whether he sank or swam.

It might be easier to let himself drown. To let go and let the icy water pull him into its suffocating embrace. Fall unconscious into the soft sand of the seafloor and let the world forget about him. It would hurt less, for him and everyone else. 

But he could never let that happen. He had been down this path a few times before and made his choice years ago. 

Life was waiting for him, and if the water was rough he would just have to swim.

He tossed back and forth trying to fall asleep, careful not to make noises that might wake George. He finally drifted off with a pillow wrapped in his arms and thoughts of warmth comforting his mind.

-

Dream was laying in a field. His back pressed against the soft dirt and his fingers were absentmindedly pulling up clumps of grass. He could feel the warmth of another body radiating next to him and he didn’t even have to look to know it was George. 

It was the tail-end of sunset when the glowing sun had dipped below the horizon and the chill of night was starting to creep up the back of his neck but the earthy pink and orange tones were still streaked across the sky like a masterpiece. 

Tiny stars were beginning to shine directly above them in the darkest parts of the sky, slowly growing less faint. George’s hand twitched by his side in a shiver. He was so close. 

After a moment, the older boy pushed himself slightly off the ground and propped himself up with one elbow, raising the other to point to the sky in an elegant line. 

“Do you see that?” He asked, eyes glancing over to Dream to make sure he was looking. “The bright star in between the other two? See, you can follow it out on either side- those are the wings, and then down from the center, making the body. That’s the constellation Aquila, it represents the eagle that held Zeus’ lightning bolts. Or Jupiter’s, if you’re more partial to Roman mythology like me.”

He was beautiful like this. Talking so passionately, a look of awe across his face. His mouth hung slightly open, soft lips turned up at the corners in a small smile. His arm relaxed letting his hand fall back into the grass near Dream’s.

In a moment of bravery, or maybe stupidity, Dream reached over to grasp his hand. It was smaller than his, fingers cold from the chilly night air. George turned to look at him. His eyebrows furrowed slightly with an emotion Dream couldn’t place. Almost like sadness. 

Dream waited only a moment before pushing himself up and leaning over to kiss him. Desperately. Irreversibly.

His eyes scrunched shut as it happened. George was still for a moment, in shock maybe, before leaning in ever so slightly. His hand hovered in the air before gently settling on Dream’s waist.

After the longest few moments of his life, Dream pulled away to breathe. He rested his forehead against George’s. His eyes were still shut. He couldn’t bear to see the aftermath of what he had done. 

-

His eyes opened with a start. 

He was still in bed, warm sunlight brightening his room. It had been a dream. He wished it wasn’t. 

His mind tried to catch up to reality. The phone on his nightstand reminded him of what had happened the night before. In futile hope he tapped the screen, sighing when he saw no current call. George must have woken up at some point and hung up, leaving Dream utterly alone. He flopped back down into bed and rubbed a hand over his face.

He remembered all of it. How his breath had caught in his throat, holding it until he was so dizzy he thought he would faint. How George’s hand felt perfect in his. How he could feel George’s pulse in his neck where his hand cupped his face to pull him deeper into the kiss. 

_ How could it all feel so real? _

He guiltily buried his face into his pillow, willing himself back to that field. He wished he never had to leave it.


	9. Batteries drain, I get the memo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for semi-unintentional self harm, a bit of internalized homophobia, and cw for people with emetephobia!
> 
> I was listening to your city gave me asthma on repeat while writing this, take that as a general warning too.

Dream woke again a mere hour later, unable to stand the sweaty warmth of staying in bed any longer. His attempt to return to his dream was unsuccessful, much to his disappointment. Instead, he spent the time in a state of half-consciousness that did nothing but make him hot and somehow more groggy than he had been originally.

It was safe to say he was not the happiest about it. 

He grumbled as he trudged to the bathroom. Halfway there a small bundle of fluff stepped in his way.

“Really, Patches? You’re not even gonna let me shower first?” He said, looking down at her sitting indignantly on his feet. She stared up with about as much emotion as a cat can, which isn’t much, but it was still pitiful. 

Dream sighed. “Fine, I’ll feed you now. Shower can wait I guess.”

He bent down to scoop her into his arms and carried her to the kitchen. When he cracked open a can of cat food she eagerly butted her head into his arm, fur tickling him until he laughed. 

“Here you go, then. Eat,” he said with a huff, setting the small dish on the ground for her. She ran to it hungrily. Dream smiled, watching her for a second and remembering a conversation he and George had a few days earlier.

_ “I can’t believe you talk to Patches like that,” he had said when the cat had wandered into Dream’s room during a call.  _

_ “Like what?” He laughed, stroking her gently and murmuring meaningless baby-talk to her. _

_ “Like, all cute or whatever _ ,”  _ George replied, unhelpfully vague. “It’s so adorable. Who knew you were such a sappy person when no one else can hear you.” _

_ His voice was filled with tenderness, making Dream blush a rosy pink.  _

_ “You can hear me.” _

_ “I don’t count,” George said it like it was obvious.  _

He was right, talking to him wasn’t like talking to anyone else. He could be honest with George. His most true self, save for the one thing Dream would barely even admit to himself.

He shook the thought from his head. It was too early to be thinking about this shit, plus he had a shower to get to before he could even start to be awake enough to handle the day.

Locking the bathroom door behind him, he tugged off his shirt and started the shower, kicking off his sweatpants and stepping in before it was even warm. The cool water made quick work of clearing his head. It quickly heated, though, to a balmy temperature that soothed his tight muscles. He closed his eyes at the relief it brought. He really needed to work on his posture. Long hours of hunching over a keyboard were wreaking havoc on his shoulders.

The splashing of the shower reminded him of the way the rain had thundered on the roof that night he had called George in a state of panic. His own honestly had scared him. George had an uncanny ability to pull the truth out of him, even the things he resolved to hide away from the world. His mind wandered to their numerous phone calls since then.

Every time he heard George speak, he longed for that soft voice again. He wanted to hear tender words mumbled in his ear, wanted to say the things he thought in the most secret parts of his mind out loud for his best friend to hear. He wanted it to be real.

It was driving him crazy.

He was barely a step away from everything he could ever want, but if he took that step and George didn’t want it? How could he live with himself if he ruined the most meaningful friendship he’d ever had?

Maybe if he wasn’t such a coward he could do it. Say  _ fuck it _ and spill his feelings out and expose the complicated mess George had turned him into. But he was a coward, and he always would be. Everything from the last few months of his life had confirmed that.

He rinsed the last suds of shampoo from his hair with a sigh and pushed the shower handle to the off position, the sudden disappearance of the warm water leaving him damp and shivering.

Although showering had successfully woken him up, he couldn’t seem to shake the memory of his dream no matter how hard he tried. There was something about the serenity of the stars, the warmth of George under his calloused hands and his lips against his own; the sensations had wrapped around his mind and made a home there. It made his heartache for something that could never be.

He stepped out of the shower, dripping water in a trail all the way to his room, too lost in his mental fantasy to care. He mindlessly pulled on a sweatshirt only to look down and realize it was the merch George had sent him. A stubborn blush spread across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

_ I really can’t escape him, huh? _

Perfectly on cue, his phone buzzed on his nightstand with an incoming call from his best friend. He answered and brought it to his ear, moving swiftly to his usual place on the couch where he curled up for most of the long calls with George. 

He could almost trick himself into thinking his friend was sitting on the other end of the sofa, laughing next to him instead of eight hours away by international flight. Maybe one day it would happen, if he didn’t mess everything up first.

“Hello Dream,” George said with a small giggle.

“Hey!” he replied eagerly.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing much, just got out of the shower. You?”

“Same- doing nothing, I mean.”

“Nothing besides talking to me,” Dream said with a small smirk.

“Yeah, yeah… So how’d you sleep?”

The question came out of nowhere, making Dream hesitate.

“Fine, I guess? I missed you when I woke up, you didn’t have to hang up you know.”

“I didn’t want to accidentally wake you up,” George said softly.

“Well I was already dreaming about you, so it wouldn’t have made much of a difference honestly,” Dream said in a brief burst of truth. He heard a sharp breath through the speaker.

“Dream I- I’m uh, I’m streaming right now. You’re on speaker,” George rushed out.

The room tilted around him. The fingernails of his empty hand dug into his palm as the hand holding his phone slipped down from his ear. Heavy air stuck in his lungs, unable to breathe in or out. He clumsily hit the end call button before the phone clattered out of his grip and onto the floor.

Panic dripped down his throat hot and sharp into his stomach. He was going to be sick. 

Clammy hands gripped the edge of the porcelain toilet as he wretched, empty heaves mixed with shuddering sobs and tears that blurred the tile floor he was staring at. He couldn’t remember how he got to the bathroom. Everything brought him back here, to this pristine hell that was too cold and too white and it reminded him of every time he was weak and he  _ hated it _ .

He grasped his arms, leaving red scratches where he did. The pain cut through the fury of thoughts in his mind like a searing bright light. He dug his nails in deeper with a sob. Feeling anything was better than nothing, the painful sensation reminded him he was human. Alive. 

His knees ached from the pressure against the hard floor where he hunched pathetically alone. Bruises were surely blooming at the contact, but he couldn’t care enough to move to a more comfortable position.

_ I don’t deserve comfort. I’m worthless. _ His thoughts whispered cruelly. 

How fitting that the one time he mustered up some bravery it all backfired. His words, laced with fondness and sweet like honey, meant only for George's ears had just been broadcast to tens of thousands of people. His most private thoughts out there in the open for fans to pick apart and analyze and theorize about. 

A small pool of anger bubbled up inside him, but it was quickly swallowed by disgust and self-hatred.

_ You have no right to be _ angry, he thought, _you did this to yourself. Freak._

He sat there for god knows how long, until his tears dried on his cheeks and his breathing slowed to a soft rhythm. His body slumped, exhausted, and a million miles detached from his mind. He felt like a spectator in his own life, separate from his comatose form. Like the worst kind of dream he couldn’t escape. 

Eventually he found himself in his bed, back turned to the room. He hardly even registered the ringing of his phone, a distant constant noise nagging at his ears. He couldn’t bring himself to care, and slowly the calls grew less frequent until they stopped altogether, leaving him in dark silence. He didn’t notice when he slipped into a restless sleep. 


	10. Don't go so easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG TW for self-harm and suicidal thoughts. This is the heaviest chapter of the fic, I'm serious about this warning. Please don't read it if it will trigger you. Take care of yourself.

The sun was mocking him. It rose and sank in an endless, unbearable cycle. Every morning he woke from a barely-there sleep, eyes sore and red from a mixture of crying and exhaustion, to watch the dark blur of his room slowly lighten in a wash of gray. He would reach up to yank his curtains shut, every inch of movement dragging out what little energy he had left.

It had been four days since he had talked to George. More exactly, ninety-two hours, forty-one minutes, and a handful of seconds that ticked away in his mind like a bomb, bound to explode eventually but never wavering until it happened. 

_ That tends to happen when you bottle up your emotions _ , Dream chided himself. For such a self-aware person, he didn’t have a very good track record of taking his own advice. 

He glanced up to his window where the glittering stars were starting to dim in the early morning sky. If he was stronger he might be able to shut them out too, busy himself with something else at night instead of sob while searching for the constellations that came to him in his dreams. 

If he was so upset with George, why did it give him hope to look at the sky and imagine him doing the same? Why did it send a shiver down his spine when he thought of the last good phone call they had shared, his friend’s whisper playing on loop in his mind?

Anger bubbled up inside him. That  _ idiot _ had called him like it was any other day, smooth voice turning Dream pliant in its enveloping safety. 

Dream has been floating from the magic of his dream, the memory of soft lips on his dancing through his mind. For once in his life, his feelings had felt beautiful. Not shameful, or disgusting, as he had been taught by the world to believe they were, but beautiful. And, for another first, he had felt brave enough to share it with someone. The words had flowed out of him with a smile, hoping that George might understand. Might pick up on the tender way he recalled his dream, and respond earnestly. That they could be more.

But instead, he had been met with a stuttering admission of guilt. George had violated the safety of their calls, desecrated the sacred secrecy he had come to count on. After all those tears shed together, the truths dug up from hidden places and spoken gingerly with a whispered plea to keep it between them, he had broadcasted it to the world without a second thought.

Dream felt stupid.

His eyes prickled, moonlight catching in the tears that rolled over his cheekbones. Angrily, he wiped them away with a fist and pulled the dark blinds closed to seal the world out once again. He didn’t want to be awake to hear the birds start chirping.

-

Although his room was still pitch dark, the small clock by his bed showed he had slept until late morning. He lay unmoving, glazed eyes trained on the wall in a dead stare. The usual guilt that gnawed at his stomach was overrun by hunger.

_ How long has it been since I ate? _ He thought, brain supplying no helpful answers from the haze of the last few days.

His head spun when he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. An icy chill bore deep to his core, even though he was bundled in a hoodie and sweatpants. His hands trembled at his sides. He really needed to eat.

The room swayed around him as he took unsteady steps to the kitchen, pausing to grasp the doorway to the living room and blink until his dizziness faded and the black spots at the edge of his vision disappeared.

He flicked the switch of a dim overhead light and the electric buzz of the bulb filled his ears. He grimaced at the pathetic options in his kitchen: Questionably old eggs, a bowl of softening apples, and a bag of ground coffee. It wasn’t very appealing. 

Sighing, he moved to the cupboard at the edge of the room. The least he could do was hydrate, and maybe order some food when he was more awake. 

He swiped a cup from the middle shelf too fast. The cool glass slipped through his shaky hand and shattered with a crash on the counter.

“Oh, shit-” he yelped, rushing to clean up the pieces. 

Without thinking, his hands brushed against the broken shards. The sharp edges dug in, splitting the skin and sending fiery pain shooting through his nerves. A shaky cry tumbled from his lips, frantic eyes surveying the damage. He pulled away the stuck pieces, leaving behind thin cuts on his palms. Small droplets of blood began to seep from the wounds. It dripped slowly from his skin, bright scarlet contrasting with the white laminate countertop where it splattered. Snippets of painful memories flashed through his mind.

_ His back pressed against the door of his childhood bedroom. _

_ A thin metal blade strewn to the floor. _

_ Arms resting on his knees. He had to throw those pants away. He couldn’t scrub the stains out. _

_ Scabs rubbing uncomfortably against his long sleeves in the Florida heat. _

_ A drawer of unsharpened pencils. _

A thick sound choked in his throat, knees buckling. He pressed his hands into the counter. The fresh sting of the glass underneath his palms snapped his mind back to the moment. The corners of his mouth turned up in a sick smile before his features crumbled into sobs. 

He grasped blindly for his phone. Blood smeared on the screen with his touch, muddying the piles of notifications on his lock screen. There were more unread texts and missed calls than he could keep track of, but none of that mattered right now. He swiped to his emergency contacts, hand hovering over George’s name. His first instinct was to go to him, even after the bitter ending to their last call.

He held his breath as the phone rang.  _ Once, twice…  _

The third ring was cut off by a familiar voice.

“Dream?” Sapnap said his name like it was a question.

“Help,” Dream whispered. “Please.”

“What? Dream, what’s happening? Help what?” Sapnap’s voice started to lean towards frantic.

“I… The glass, I didn’t mean to- there’s so much  _ blood _ and I don’t know- I don’t- it hurts like last time but I thought I was better, I don’t want to die now I don’t anymore but it’s just like last time _ and I’m sorry pleasedon’tleavemepl- _ ” he choked out through tears. His whole body shuddered as he heaved into the phone.

“Blood? Your blood?” Sapnap asked quickly. Dream nodded with a weak noise.

“Was it on purpose?” His voice was strained. There was no response.

“Dream,  _ was it on purpose?”  _ He repeated firmly.

“I don’t know,” Dream cried, “I didn’t mean to but-”

“But?”

“But then I couldn’t stop,” he said with a sob.

“Are you safe? Do I need to call 911?”

Dream’s eyes widened in panic. “No, please- I’m okay.”

“You’re not  _ fucking okay _ ,” Sapnap practically yelled. He was crying too.

“I know,” Dream said meekly. “I’m sorry.”

“ _ Don’t- _ don’t. Just tell me if you’re safe.”

“I’m safe.”

“And you don’t want to die?”

“Not actively,” Dream said. He couldn’t make himself lie to his best friend anymore.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Sapnap asked.

“It means that I’ve been suicidal since I was 14, Sapnap,” Dream admitted.

“But you’re not trying to kill yourself right now?” Sapnap tried cautiously.

“No.”

There was silence for a moment. Dream heard a muffled sob from Sapnap, and a deep breath.

“You fucking scared me, dude,” he said softly.

“I scared myself, too.”

“What… what  _ happened _ ?”

Dream paused for a minute to think about it.

“I dropped a glass,” he said with a sigh, “and I accidentally cut myself. Seeing the blood… it brought back memories I would rather forget.”

Sapnap waited in confused silence. 

“...Memories?”

Dream sighed, considering how much he wanted to say.

“Do you remember when I was 17, and I went to the hospital?”

“Uhh- oh, yeah, it was like pneumonia or something?”

He laughed remembering the story he had come up with to avoid the truth.

“It definitely wasn’t pneumonia.”

-

Twenty minutes and a lot of tears later, Dream had gotten through the whole story. He let Sapnap have a moment to process it all.

“I’m sorry I didn’t help you more,” he said.

“But I didn’t tell-” Dream started, only to be cut off by the younger boy.

“No, you didn’t tell me, but I knew there must have been something going on. I did then and I do now. I shouldn’t have waited for you to come to me first.”

Dream sat in stubborn silence. He knew neither one of them was perfect, but he didn’t want his friend to take the blame for it. This wasn’t either of their faults.

“So these… panic attacks? They started a few months ago?” Sapnap asked.

“I’ve had them every once in a while since high school started, but frequently, yeah, for the past few months.”

“Does George know?”

Guilt flared in Dream’s stomach.

“I was going to tell you too,” he whispered.

“Oh no, no, I meant- I don’t mind, Dream, I understand having to wait until you were ready, I just meant that after the whole call thing. Like if you wanted to explain why it upset you so much.”

“Oh. I… yeah, he knows. I’m sure he can figure out why I was upset without me having to spell it out for him,” he spat bitterly.

“Dream,” Sapnap sighed, “He didn’t know you were going to say what you did. He’s been worried sick about you since it happened. He tried to call.”

Dream swallowed thickly, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. “I know. I didn’t pick up.”

“He’s really sorry.”

Hot tears spilled out from under Dream’s eyelashes.

“I know. And I hate him for it. I know he would never do anything to hurt me, but I thought… I thought if I could pretend, if I could blame my hurt on him,” he steadied his voice, “then maybe I would stop loving him.”

Shame crept up the back of his neck. It was the first time he had said it out loud, practically the first time he had admitted it to himself. 

_ I’m in love with George, _ he thought. It sent a confusing spiral of fear and hope through his veins. There was no going back now

He heard a sharp breath through the speaker. 

“It isn’t going to work. I know you’re scared, but pushing the most important person in your life away from you isn’t going to fix anything. You’ll just hurt yourself even more.”

Dream bit his lip. The truth of it hit him all at once. 

“I don’t want to mess anything up. I don’t want to lose him- I  _ can’t. _ ”

“If you don't let him try to fix this, then you will.”

Dream knew he was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be honest, this chapter (and fic) is like 80% me self-projecting onto Dream. I wish I could have done this chapter more justice but I was really struggling with getting all my thoughts out in the right way. Not my favorite thing I've written, but I hope y'all liked it anyways!


End file.
